


Away in a Manger

by MickyRC



Series: Star of Wonder Ineffable Advent [7]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Advent Calendar, Christmas, Crack, Fluff, Holidays, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Inspired by Music, M/M, Religious Humor, Uriel's a bastard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:48:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21709234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MickyRC/pseuds/MickyRC
Summary: Aziraphale didnotrent out all the rooms in the inn and cause Jesus to be born in a stable.  That is nothing but a horrible rumor, thank you very much.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Star of Wonder Ineffable Advent [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559308
Comments: 9
Kudos: 91
Collections: Aziraphale's Library Festive Fic Recs





	Away in a Manger

**Author's Note:**

> Day 7 of my Star of Wonder advent calendar, in which each day's fic is inspired by a song from my favorite Christmas album, The Roches' _We Three Kings_. It's also going up on tumblr [over here!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/micky-r-c)

“Hey, angel. Have you heard the story—joke, really—about why Jesus was born in a stable?”

“Probably not, dear,” Aziraphale tutted from his seat at the table. “That kind of joke isn’t generally appreciated Upstairs.”

“Oh, you’ll _love_ it.” Crowley reached into a cabinet, searching for tea bags. “So y’know how they had to go to the stable ‘cause the inn was full, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Well, turns out it _wasn’t._ Some angel booked all the rooms to welcome them in, but then _forgot to tell anybody_ and left the Christ child to be born in a donkey stable.” He was grinning; he loved that story. It was exactly the kind of bureaucratic screw-up Heaven would—

_“Where did you hear that.”_

He turned at the intensity in Aziraphale’s voice. The angel was staring at him, gripping the table hard enough to make his hand go white-knuckled. Crowley’s eyebrows scrunched in. “Easy, there, angel. It’s just a joke.”

_“Where. Did you hear it.”_

“Uh, around? It’s a running gag Downstairs. Dunno where I heard it first.” Aziraphale was still looking uncomfortably tense. “Jeez, angel, what’s the problem? It’s a joke. ‘S not true.”

That seemed to calm him, a little. “Does everyone… I mean, do people _know_ it’s a joke? It’s not treated seriously?”

Crowley’s internal alarm bells were going full swing. “I mean… yeah? Might have been more like a rumor at first—oi!” Aziraphale had stood up fast enough to knock his chair into the wall with a _bang._ He didn’t seem to notice.

“Damn Uriel! I _know_ it was them who started that rumor, that—”

“Wait,” Crowley blocked Aziraphale’s path out of the kitchen. “Hold up. Explain to me what’s going on here.”

“It’s nothing, dear. Let me through.”

“Yeah, uh-uh. Why are you suddenly on the warpath against Uriel? Not that I have a problem with fighting Uriel,” he added hastily. “But this seems a little sudden.”

Aziraphale huffed, and then deflated. “You’re right. Oh, dear, I’m sorry, I got a bit worked up, there.” He dropped back into his chair with a sigh. It took just long enough for Crowley to put the pieces together.

“Wait—no. _No._ ” His face broke into a grin that was just bordering on manic. “ _You’re_ the angel in the story?”

“NO!” Aziraphale cried. “That’s exactly the _point,_ I’m _not_ that angel because that angel doesn’t exist, it _never happened!_ ”

“ _You’re the one who—_ ”

“Crowley!”

“Right, sorry, sorry.” He collapsed into the seat across from him and leaned across the table. “But that rumor’s based on _you?_ ”

Aziraphale sighed and slumped down. “Yes. Oh, don’t look at me like that.” Crowley tried to school his face into a more respectably sized grin. “I did _not_ book out the inn, nor did I leave my post at any point that night.”

“You had a post?”

Aziraphale gave him a look. “I _was_ a guardian of Eden, dearest. I haven’t always been left to my own interests and the occasional blessing.”

“Well I know _that_ , angel.” Crowley reached over the table to take his hand. Despite the angel’s somewhat harsh demeanor, he immediately laced their fingers together. “So what was your post, if you weren’t off ensuring the son of God had a memorable birth?”

Aziraphale swatted at the hand held in his own. “I was keeping an eye on them, Mary and Joseph, while they were traveling. So yes, I was there when the inn turned out to be full, but it _was. Not. My. Fault._ ”

Crowley stood and went around the table to drape himself over Aziraphale’s back. He pressed a kiss to his hair and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. “Of course, angel. Never would have blamed you.”

Aziraphale sighed and placed a hand over Crowley’s. “I’m sorry, my dear. It’s just this rumor has been hanging over my head for _centuries_ now. I really had hoped it had died down.”

Crowley kissed his head again and settled his chin on his shoulder. “Tell you what. Next time I see a demon—hush, I won’t go looking, just if it happens—I’ll give them a little tip.”

Aziraphale peered up at him, looking very skeptical. “Oh? And what would that be?”

Crowley let the manic grin come back. “That the angel from the inn joke was an Archangel with a love of frilly collars.”

That made Aziraphale laugh, finally, and the last of the tension in the room broke. He lifted one of Crowley’s hands to his lips, then stood up and turned in the demon’s hold to hug him back. “My dear, that would make my day.” He pulled back suddenly to look him in the eye. “But if I find out you’ve gone looking for demons—"

Crowley laughed and kissed him. He wouldn’t, and they both knew it. And they both knew that while there would probably be a whole lot more teasing on the subject of the inn, they would always come back to this.


End file.
